


Strawberry Mineral Water

by cyrusbarrone



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky gets fucked in a skirt, Cheerleaders, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That trophy is gonna look so good on my mantle," Bucky commented happily, as he swapped the large trophy, made of three metal people with shining pom-poms and skirts that were snug around their asses, to his other hand. "Don't you think, Steve?" </p><p>or 'Steve fucks Bucky in his cheerleading outfit, after having Chinese take-out'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry Mineral Water

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part to my cheerleading fic, but you don't have to read both. I'm really happy with the bantering and stuff in this fic, so I hope you all enjoy!!

"That trophy is gonna look so good on my mantle," Bucky commented happily, as he swapped the large trophy, made of three metal people with shining pom-poms and skirts that were snug around their asses, to his other hand. "Don't you think, Steve?" 

Steve looked over at the mantelpiece in question. There were countless trophies and little framed medals that were scribed with Bucky's full name of 'James Barnes'. There was a gap, however, directly in between two silver statues made of shining little men in various cheering stances. The gap was the same size of the trophy that Bucky was holding. 

"It will look good," Steve compliments. He toes off his sneakers, and scrunched his nose in disgust at his sweat damp socks and pulls those off too, tucking them into his sneakers. 

Bucky nodded in agreement, smile beaming, smug and happy at the same time but mainly smug. "I think you're right, Rogers," he says, giving him a grin over his shoulder before hopping to the mantel piece and placing the trophy in the place of honour. Dead in the middle, shining between the two silvers and looking like it was made for the spot. 

"Really adds to the whole collection," Steve comments, not unsarcastically. 

Bucky nods very seriously. "It really does." 

Then the trophy is forgotten, it's back news because Bucky's switched his attention to a take-out menu that's stuck to the side of the television. His attention spam was short, and it was surprising he'd been stuck on winning the competition for as long as he had been. 

Bucky plucks off the menu from the television, and holds it out towards Steve. It's bright orange with various Chinese symbols down the side, that Bucky translated as literally, 'Chinese take-away', and Steve nods in agreement. They both deserve some horrendously salty and greasy food, even if it did end in their individual coaches forcing on extra diets and more work out routines. 

"I'll pay if you order," Bucky says, sitting down on his sofa. It's a garish green, one that his aunt gave him for the cheap price of twenty bucks when she no longer wanted it. It was entirely comfortable at the same time as having questionable stains. 

Steve figured that's how it would be, Bucky never really liked talking to people on the phone. He'd found that out when they started hanging out a couple of months ago after their first competition together. "Deal," agrees Steve. 

Steve joins Bucky on the couch, sinking into the darker green back cushions and propping his feet up on the glass coffee table - another item from the infamous Aunt Mildred. He looked to Bucky who was pulling the laces of his boots out carefully, before kicking them off with a thump. His socks stuck to his feet, and Steve wrinkled his nose, but Bucky pulled them off revealing pink glittery toe nails. 

"What did you want?" Steve questions, crossing his legs on the sofa and taking the phone from its cradle. He copies the phone number from the menu into the phone, and hovers his thumb over the 'call' button. 

Bucky looks up from his feet, eyes a little wide as though he had forgotten Steve was even there. "Uh," he stumbled, grabbing the menu and flipping through. "107, the duck pancakes, please, Cap."

Steve rolled his eyes, though not unfondly. "Alright, Sarge."

Once the food was ordered, and Bucky had pressed his gross feet all over Steve's thighs until he was comfy, the pair relaxed into the sofa. Both quiet and individually thinking about the competition and the aches of their arms and legs. Cheerleading was a hell of a sport for pains in places you never normally feel from. 

"Did you choose to wear a skirt for a reason?" Steve asks after a while, rubbing his hands over Bucky's feet after being prodded with them. 

Bucky's head was flopped back on the back of the sofa, eyes watching the ceiling and body languid. "I knew it would distract you," he says bluntly, shifting and stretching his back lazily. "Nah, I was just never gonna wear those ass cuddlers they get blokes to wear. And skirts make my legs look amazing."

Steve wasn't going to disagree. Bucky had long legs anyway but they seemed to go on forever under the neat pleats of his black skirt. Steve couldn't pull off that, his shoulders too wide in comparison to his hips for a skirt, the ass cuddlers, as Bucky called them, suited him better. 

"You were totally just admiring my legs," Bucky picks up, twisting his position until his backs against the arm of the sofa and Steve's lap is filled with leg. "Your eyes got all glazed over and everything." 

Steve slapped his arm, and rolled his eyes, because that totally hadn't happened. "Shut up." 

So, Bucky does, because Bucky didn't mind not talking sometimes. He shuts up but that smug look doesn't leave his face for a while as they sit in comfortable silence, and Steve ponders on what colour he should paint his toenails. 

When there's a knock on the door Bucky hops up in a mess of limbs, knees hitting awkwardly against Steve and skirt flapping up around his hips until he yanked it back down with his metallic fingers, and a mutter of, "quit staring, Rogers." 

Steve blushes, if only a little, but watches as Bucky walked to the door and picked up his wallet from the side cabinet. The wallet was this old leather thing from his granddad who had brought it back from fighting in the Second World War, Bucky treasured it like the worn dog tags around his neck. 

"Hello," Bucky greets the delivery person, who looks a little windswept at the same time as flustered, with red cheeks and a wonky cap covering dark orange hair. 

The person smiles and hands over warm boxes of food before saying the price of the dinner in a rehearsed sort of way. Bucky gives it to her, keeping his metal arm tucked behind the covers of the door, with his charm turned up to full. He has the girl blushing a slight pink by the time she's gone. 

Bucky turned after closing the door, giving a little triumphant grin. "She'll totally have to change her panties when she gets home," he states, crudely. He picks up the boxes and brings them through to the living room. 

"You're an ass sometimes, Buck," Steve sighs, though he says it fondly. He found it hard not to be fond of his new friend and competitor, even if he could be a total jerk. 

Bucky appears a couple of seconds later, holding two bottles of what looks like flavoured and sparkling mineral water, and forks with mismatched handles. "Do you want orange and lemon, or strawberry?" he asks, lifting up the glass bottles and raising his eyebrows. He sits back down on the couch and crosses his legs, putting the two bottles out in front of him and tilting his head.

"Think carefully," Bucky advised, looking all seriously at Steve. Steve didn't think he could, not about mineral water and not when Bucky was tilting his head to the side like a puppy, with long hair dangling in his eyes.

Steve picks up the strawberry drink, and they begin to eat. Bucky eats quietly, not starting conversation and paying close attention to how he's rolling his pancakes and exactly how much hoisin sauce he puts in ratio to the duck. Steve just munches down his chow mein straight from the carton.

Once they'd finished, and Bucky was drinking from his bottle of mineral water in a way that should not be obscene but totally was, Bucky started to talk again. He got comfy, laying across most of the sofa, with his ass against Steve's thigh and legs across his lap as though Steve were his own piece of furniture. 

"Let's talk virginity," said Bucky brightly, chewing on his bottom lip and making it impossibly redder than it had before. "How did the noble Steve Rogers lose it?" 

Steve's face flushed, but then he wasn't exactly surprised at Bucky's conversation starter. Bucky was one of those people who enjoyed talking about that sort of thing with other people, he was the opposite of what Steve was, really. "With a girl called Peggy," he said, and Bucky congratulated him on actually knowing her name. "When I was seventeen, we'd been going out for about two years and we loved one another." 

Bucky wasn't surprised, but grinned happily anyway. "Ain't you gonna ask me?" he asked. 

"Bucky," Steve said, running his hands over the man's calves and into the dents of his knees. "How did you lose your virginity?" 

Bucky nods at him in approval, as if congratulating him on asking the right question. "It was totally not romantic," he confesses. "I think I got lube in his eyes, which is the opposite of sexy. We were in the back of his car and it was the smallest damn car ever, there were limbs everywhere man. And there was totally a hand print on the window, all Titanic style, at the end!" Bucky looked somewhat proud. 

"Wow," Steve comments sarcastically. 

Bucky rubs his foot under Steve's shirt as he asks his next question, cold feet running over the hard lines of his stomach. "Did you fuck up too?" he asked, his voice and eyes a little softer, mouth looking soft and inviting. 

"I fell off the bed," Steve recalls, running his hand up the side of Bucky's skirt. He could feel the rough material of the shorts cut into the skirt, and he slipped a couple of fingers under the material, touching at the soft skin. "I actually had really bad asthma at the time and nearly had an attack afterwards."  
Bucky's face turns slightly concerned, but he still let's out a slight laugh. "Smooth one, Rogers," he comments, voice sounding slightly adrift as he pushed up Steve's shirt with his foot, slowly pulling himself to sit up a little bit more.

Bucky sat with his back straight against the arm of the sofa, feet back in Steve's lap. His mouth looked red and wet from where he'd been biting at the skin there, and Steve wondered if the lip biting was a conscious effort to get his lips as red as possible. Not that he was really complaining.

"First time with a girl was a little better," Bucky continued, a little quieter. He was moving from his spot, turning his body and pushing onto his knees, one sliding either side of Steve's body. His skirt rucked up around the tops of his thighs, and Bucky tugged a little at the back of the skirt. "But I don't think it really counts. Pegging. Does that count?"

Steve was distracted by many things that all revolved around Bucky. He was distracted by the feel of Bucky's thighs tucked around his, he was distracted by the red dampness to his bottom lip, and he was distracted by Bucky's eyes. They were half-lidded, a filling further with black and less with the frosty blue. Steve shook himself out of it. "Huh?"

Bucky laughed a little, completely aware of the affect he had on the other and finding it amusing. "I said, 'does pegging count' for a first time with a gal.”

"Well, yeah," Steve replied, though not really sure himself. He tucked his hands around the slither of skin showing where Bucky's skirt and top didn't meet, his skin was warm under Steve's touch. He slipped his fingers up and over the lines of Bucky's ribs, leaning back into the gaudy green sofa cushions, his legs widening just slightly. "I guess it would."

Bucky nodded, not saying anymore on the topic, because something more interesting was closer than the horizon and he liked the look of it. He tucked his hands up under Steve Rogers' jaw, and tilted it, laughing slightly when he got an eyeful of nostril. He gave a mutter of 'that was attractive' before leaning down and kissing him.

The kiss tasted of hoisin sauce and orange and lemon mineral water, and Bucky laughed into Steve's mouth, commenting with their mouths pressed together, "I don't think you've ever tasted to odd when we kissed before." But Bucky didn't pull away, because once he'd started something he was going to finish it. He tugged himself closer to Steve, their torso's pressing slightly together, his hands on the back of the sofa. He had his tongue licking at the roof of Steve's mouth, and Steve's tongue rubbing against his. 

Steve ran his hands up the back of Bucky's top, running his fingers over the thick muscles of his shoulders and over where twisted scar tissue fell into the metal prosthetic. He moved on, hands rubbing down Bucky's side, counting the bumps of ribs. 

"The first time I slept with a girl, where she wasn't fucking me," Bucky mumbles, pulling away from Steve's mouth. His lips were redder, shining with spit and swollen from the kissing. Steve wanted to kiss him again, bite at his bottom lip and suck it into his mouth-- "I was terribly nervous. We got back to her room, because this was- I must'a been really drunk. I don't know. I'd been rejected from the army earlier that day, man, and then I find this girl and my heads saying 'just go back to her place and fuck her' so I do. It wasn't bad, but that's probably cos I was drunk on my own self confidence and literally, too." 

Steve didn't know why Bucky was telling him this, but he didn't really mind. He'd been leaving slight marks down the side of Steve's neck as he told his tale, occupying his mouth and speaking when he just needed to breath. Huffing hot breath against the wet patches left on Steve's bared throat. 

Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, pulling out the loose hair-tie and mussing up his hair with a fond smile. "You're always drunk on self confidence," he points out, leaning up and taking Bucky's bottom lip between his teeth and into his mouth, sucking.

Bucky's breath hit hot against his face, and Steve rubs his tongue over Bucky's bottom lip before letting it go. It was dark red and shining with spit when Bucky pulled back slightly and rubbed his lips together, eyes shining. "That's true," he agreed quietly, voice trailing and gorgeous sounding. His hands pushed up the wides of Steve's own shirt, pushing it up carefully with his hands trailing Steve's ribs until it was up over his head and gone. 

"I swear nobody needs to be this muscly," Bucky states, matter of factly as he ran his hands over Steve's pecs and pressed his thumbs down against his nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He smirked that smug smirk, and put his arms back around Steve's shoulders. 

"You've never complained," points out Steve, breath a little raised compared to normal. He felt flustered and hot with the way Bucky was looking at him, the way he was fidgeting with thick and muscled thighs tucked around his lap. The way Bucky was blatantly rubbing his ass against Steve's crotch, the ass cuddled shorts doing nothing to hide it. 

"No," Bucky agreed. "I ain't complaining." 

Bucky tugged off his own shirt then, metal arm making slight chinking noises at his movement. He tossed the shirt away, and Steve looked at him shamelessly, touched him shamelessly. Bucky was gorgeous. His stomach, chest, shoulders and arms were all muscled and toned to high hell. Steve especially liked the dark patch of chest hair he had running thinner to his belly button then thicker beyond. Steve ran his hands down Bucky's abs, thumb dipping into his belly button. 

Bucky kissed him again, tasting a little less of hoisin as his hips gyrated a little more. Steve's hands moved down to his hips and he pulled him down onto his lap, an increased pressure rubbing and holding his cock in place. Steve made a desperate noise. 

Bucky looked smug. Bucky always looked smug. He lifted up from Steve's lap, and bent down, cupped his chin and dragged him in for a kiss that was all tongues and teeth and saliva damping Steve's chin. 

"I'm gonna ride you," Bucky states once he's pulled away, walking to a spot where he'd hidden lubricant and maybe a condom. His skirt was hitched around his ass, showing he wasn't wearing underwear under the layers. "I'm gonna sit right down on your cock and you'll be fuckin begin for me to ride you that lil bit quicker, but I'll jus squeeze down and say 'no' cos I got all the control. I'll kiss you stupid, leave you wanting more, leave your mouth went and needy and your cock drooling in my ass." 

Steve wants to comment on his dirty mouth, but he's too busy gaping and rubbing at his cock through his shorts to even talk. To even comprehend the idea of talking was something he couldn't focus on.

Bucky turned back to Steve, laughing a little, eyes bright and creased at the corners. "That sounded sexy, right?" he asks, giggling a little as he steps out of his shorts and kicks them onto the ground. He runs his fingers over his cock, where it stands stark, pushing the skirt against his hips slightly. "I heard it in some porno, adapted it a little."

Steve wants to swear at him, roll his eyes for taking script from a porno, but he couldn't help but laugh slightly. He'd never thought porn script had been that sexy, but maybe it was just Bucky, how he was, and that dumb little smirk that he always had when he wasn't scowling behind his hair. 

"I think that's the weirdest thing someone has ever admitted to me," Steve said honestly, still absently running his hand over his crotch as he watched Bucky. 

Bucky shrugged and walked back to Steve, sitting himself on his lap. He had his knees spread wide, sitting comfortably either side of Steve's thighs, and his hair hung in strands in front of his eyes. "So?" he asks, turning his head and licking a stripe across Steve's throat. "You were totally into it." he groped at Steve's crotch, looking smug when Steve let out a slightly strangled moan. 

"True," muttered Steve. 

He moved his hands from Bucky's hips and took the lubricant from the other cheerleader's hand, and covered his fingers in the substance. He pressed his fingers around his cock, curling and running over the thick vein on its underside, running down until he hit the rough patch of pubic hair at the base. Bucky tilted his throat at him, bared, hips twitching forward and eyes begging in a way so unlike Bucky. 

"I was serious though," Bucky mumbled, running a hand down his own chest and tweaking at a nipple, moving down and touching each hardline of ab. "I wanna ride you. Hard." His hand moved down further and grabbed at Steve's hand, directing it between his thighs, up between his cheeks. His eyelids fluttered, casting shadows on his face as Steve worked a finger into him. 

"Oh, good," Steve replied, quiet, concentration bringing his brows together as he worked another finger in, lube slippy and making Bucky wet and warm. He kept going until Bucky got twitchy, hips doing these tight little spasms and fingers clenching onto Steve's shoulders.

Bucky gave him a slight look from behind his hair, telling him to hurry and get on with it. He lifted up onto his knees so Steve could shift his shorts off, past his thighs at least, and he smiled when he got his dick free. It curved hard up to Steve's smooth belly, dark in colour and beading white at the tip. Bucky swiped his thumb over the top and tucked it into his mouth, sucking as Steve fumbled the condom on. It was difficult, what with Bucky gyrating like a stripper and sucking his own finger like a popsicle.

"You know you're pretty distracting," Steve points out, looking at Bucky and settling his hands on his hips. He tugged at him, maneuvering him until he could lower down comfortably. 

Bucky wrapped his hand around the base of Steve's cock. "Is it the nail varnish?" he asked, distractedly, smiling slightly. He spread his thighs a little wider as he lowered himself on Steve's dick, face twisting slightly and eyes pulling closed. He looked beautiful in a way that only he could, and Steve was entranced, watching every little twitch of his eyes and how his teeth brought his lower lip into his mouth.

"No," Steve replied. He blinked. 

He held his hands a little tighter around the rounded shape of Bucky’s hips, rubbing his thumbs along the bones as Bucky shifted around. He was fidgeting ever so slightly, lip stuck between his teeth and exhaling noisily through his nose, his fingers twitching against Steve’s shoulders, digging into the muscles there. Steve pressed his face into Bucky's warm chest, and closed his eyes. 

"They were like rabbits by now," Bucky informed, breathless. 

He squeezed at Steve's shoulders, and began to move his hips. His thighs tensing tightly as he pushed up onto his knees, Steve's dick sliding nearly all the way out before he slid right down again, eyes fluttering closed and mouth hanging open. Steve’s mouth hung open back, hands slipping down where sweat was gracing the small of Bucky's back. He lifted his hips in response, pushing into the tight heat of Bucky. 

Then Bucky just let go, he chucked his head back, long line of neck bared and hair hanging down in sweaty strands down his back. He bounced in Steve’s lap, pushing down onto Steve’s cock, twisting his hips ever so slightly now and then until his eyes blurred, his pupils blew wide and this blessed sound escaped his mouth.

Steve held a little tighter to Bucky’s hips, and pushed against the spot that made Bucky writhe and make panting little noises. He smirked when Bucky's pupils blew impossibly wider, and his cock started drooling between them, white dragging and ruining the black of his skirt and rubbing wetly against Steve’s abs. Steve kept angling his hips, just to see that look on Bucky's face, to feel the wet feel of his cock when Bucky pushed against his torso in a rush of need and want.

"I'm not sticking to what I said before," pants Bucky, slowing down and grinding around on Steve's lap, his cock hitting damply against the hard lines of Steve's abdomen. "Y'know, porn script." He let out this high, embarrassing moan and his cheeks flared red.

Steve could barely talk to reply to Bucky’s comment, not with the way Bucky was clamping down around his cock, and the wet trail that Bucky was leaving all down his chest with every slight move of his hips. "Figured," he managed; running his hand up the shining sweat of Bucky’s back and grabbing at the pure muscle of his shoulder and the shining metal of where his back met his prosthetic.

Bucky pushes down again, hand sliding down and fumbling around his cock. His hand wrapped around the length, holding tightly and pushing his ring of fingers up to the head, pulling and making wet noises with every jerk. Steve watched as he fisted it, hand moving quick, blurring with the pace that matched how Bucky was moving, how Steve was thrusting into him. Steve let out a moan, wanted to lick each finger wrapped around Bucky's dick and taste. Suck on each finger—

Steve pressed his panting mouth to Bucky's, and they didn't kiss. They just breathed into each other's mouth, or sucked and bit at the other's lip, reddening their mouths considerably further.

"Oh, god, Steve-" Bucky whines- and it is a whine, though Bucky would deny it later. His ass is tight around Steve, his fingers damp with pre-come and blurring with how fast his hips were moving, and how fast his hand was moving. His lip was bright red and wet where Steve was sucking it, and Steve thought he was actually beautiful.

"C'mon, babe," Steve encouraged, wanting to see the way his eyebrows would raise and his hips would twitch. Steve moved his hips, pulling Bucky down onto his cock and watching the way his eyebrows pulled together and his jaw clenched beautifully as he came between them, white splatters over Steve's chest, messing up his skirt, ruining the smooth colour of his skin.

Steve came at the sight, literally. The feel of Bucky's orgasm around him, how he clenched down and his chest shoved up against Steve’s, warm and sweaty. His mouth hung open in slight pants and his eyes slipped closed, he felt suffocated in bliss and his thighs shook a little from the aftershocks.

Bucky's eyes lidded as he watched Steve shake, his posture slackening and his head bowing forwards into the dip between shoulder and neck, his hair hanging down Steve's tacky back, in slightly stringy strands. Bucky breathed in the musky scent by his neck, and he sucked down and licked wetly at Steve’s neck. 

Steve gripped at Bucky's hips and pulled him off; he took off the condom and tied it, scrunching his nose and putting it into the convenient rubbish bin by the sofa. Bucky didn’t move much though, just shifted back slightly, sitting on Steve’s strong thighs and pulling at his skirt until it sat and covered his crotch and thighs. He didn’t even blush at the stains on his dark skirt. 

Steve shifts a few minutes later, rubbing at Bucky’s thighs. "You're heavy," Steve commented, after wiping his fingers through the mess on his chest and making a show of sucking wetly at his fingers. Bucky’s pupils flared slightly, as his eyebrows pulled together in a mix of emotions; annoyance at the weight thing, but pure lust at Steve licking his fingers clean.

"And you're a rude douche," snipes Bucky in response.

He does move though, wrapping his thighs up around Steve's waist and rolling to his side, pulling Steve down with him. He chucked his arm around Steve's neck and buried his face into the hollow of his throat, a leg trapped against the sofa by Steve's weight, his fingers ducking into Steve’s hair at the base of his neck, scratching through the buzzed layers at the bottom.

"You don’t think that,” Steve comments into Bucky's hair, running his fingers through the tight little knots and rubbing at his head whenever a tangle was slightly bad. 

Bucky glared up at him, resembling an angry puppy.”Yes, actually, you’re very rude," he insists, pinching at Steve's stupidly nice ass. 

Steve rolled his eyes but it was nothing short of very fond. It was nice lying like this with Bucky, his soft breaths huffing over the damp skin of his neck. Bucky’s hands felt good in his hair, on his skin where sweat was cooling and drying.  
Minutes past of calm quiet, nothing but breathing and the feel of skin rubbing skin, Bucky broke it though.  
“Can I paint your nails?” he asked quietly, picking up Steve’s hand and inspecting his nails. He grinned at him, eyes glinting playfully. “I can paint ‘freedom’ on them if you want.”


End file.
